Grissom lay in bed, waiting for Sara to finish in the bathroom. He has washed his face and cleaned his teeth and changed into his pyjamas - he felt fresh, as fresh as he would feel over the whole trip, because he knew that he would only be truly comfortable when they all returned to Vegas and got on with work. He ran a hand through his hair, and patted Sara's side of the bed as she exited the tiny ensuite. "So, you gonna come and tell me what's going on?"

Sara sidled up to the bed and slipped in beside him. "I suppose so," she answered blandly.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Honey, you know you don't have to talk if you're not ready." He nuzzled where he had kissed her with his nose, feeling her slowly soften up under his affection.

"I know that if I don't telly you some things now, I'll be thinking about them for the rest of the trip, and it'll just bug you. I'm not here to ruin your fun," she told him.

Grissom seemed horrified at the notion that she thought she would be ruining his fun. "I've never thought that, baby," he said, shocking them both with the term of endearment. "And I definitely don't agree that you're spoiling my fun. In fact, if I recall correctly, I've been getting rather a lot more fun than I would have done previously." The suggestion in his voice brought a smile to her lips, and he beamed as well. "See?" He rubbed her side. "Sweetheart, if you don't tell me, I can't help. And that's all I really wanna do. Be here and help. So ...". He trailed off and shrugged.

"I have bad dreams," she said.

"I know."

"But you don't know why I have them. You know, with my past." Here, he nodded. "So it's normally that, or sometimes, and I know that it's gonna sound stupid, most of the time, I dream about all the women we processed, the ones we couldn't save." Her eyes screwed up, and Grissom nodded somberly.

"I understand," he said. "It's not a big deal, and I shouldn't have blown it out of proportion," he apologised. "It's a ntural response. I still dream about that Anderson kid, about when I found his body," he confessed. "So I'm the person who should be pointing fingers." He paused, taking a breath to steady himself. "So what about before?"

"Like I said, I don't want you to think that I'm abandoning you," she murmured.

Gil laughed. "Why would I think that? Yeah, sure I pine a bit when I'm not with you, but when we're deeply invested like this, there's not much moe you can do other than put up with it. Unless you want to handcuff us together, and I think that would only be beneficial in certain areas, if you know what I mean," he added with a grin.

"I need space, Gil."

"I know. And so do I. I just wish that you felt you could tell me. I'm not gonna freak out every time you need a bit of 'you time.' You know me, I'm exactly the same."

Sara nodded in relief, realising that Catherine had been right all along. She sighed, turning to Grissom and bracing her hands on his big, wide, muscled chest. "You know, I'm glad we sorted that out," she smiled.

"Me too," Grissom replied, tracing his fingers up and down her arms.

"Shall we, uh, celebrate?"

"You want to lighten the mood?" His voice was husky, sending waves of arousal over her body.

"Sure."

She adored watching him sleep. So innocent and childlike - settled in a calm that suited him very well, but was rarely present when he was awake. No matter how patient he may have appeared, people always mistook his intensity for calm, and that was hardly the case. She reached over and ran a finger over his nose, coming to rest on the left-hand corner of his upper lip, where a cute little mole sat, now disguised by his beard.

His mouth opened, and he touched his lips to her finger. "Morning," he mumbled sleepily.

"Christ, Gil," Sara excalimed, holding a hand to her chest in shock. "You scared the hell out of me."

He smiled sheepishly, raising one hand and interlinking his fingers with hers. "Sleep well?"

"Uh huh. You?" She loved sharing a bed with him. He was big and strong and warm and secure.

His smile became even more sheepish, and a blush tinged his cheeks. "Yeah." And he loved sharing with her. Feeling her hold on to him, feeding off his warmth, needing him - he couldn't think of a more conforting feeling ... well, he could, but anyway. "Are you having a nice time?"

Sara nodded emphatically. "Yeah. It's nice ti simply be away from the lab, to have a break. I'm kinda missing work though," she added, pulling a face. "I'm not used to being this laid back and relaxed. I need constant stimulation."

Grissom, too, pulled a face. "Tell me about. It's like having a two-year old on board. Have you noticed how the dynamic's changing though? There's more equality, like people's maturation rates are all levelling out now they've had their growth spurts."

Sara touched a finger to his mouth. "Baby, no matter how sexy it is to hear you talk about bugs in Latin, you cannot start referring to your staff and colleagues as though they've been impaled by pins on your office wall."

He grinned. "Okay, so I think Greg and Nick have matured a lot more. Warrick was always on the way, and he's achieved it too. And him and Catherine ...".

"Oh, those two. Yup, they've definitely fallen for each other. So we're not the only lovebirds. I'm just glad Jim's enjoying himself too." She struggled to sit up, holding the duvet cover up to her chest. "I didn't know how he'd feel about fitting in. No offence, 'cause I really like him, and Cath too, and I know they're your friends and all but ...," she trailed off.

Grissom propped his head up with one hand. "Yes?" he asked, partially amused.

"Do you ever find them too much? Or too little? Cath knows too much, and you and Brass have that unspoken guy thing going on, but do you think they really understand you and what drives you?"

He reached out and held one of the hands clutching at the duvet. "Honey, I don't truly understand me and my urges. I've got a pretty good understanding, and I'd like to think that in you I've found a kindred spirit, a soulmate if you will, but they're my friends. They seem to be very good at pointing out when I need 'to lift my head out of the microscope.' As are you. But they're good for when I want to forget about me, I suppose." He shrugged indifferently. "I don't know if that came out right."

"I know what you mean," she answered. They exchanged a glance as they heard a knock at their door.

"I'll go," Gil said. "I have less to put on to cover myself," he added, grinning. "Coming!" he yelled, pulling on his pair of discarded boxer shorts. "Jim, what can I do for you?"

Brass cleared his throat. "You know I wouldn't knock and encroach on your personal turf out here."

"But?"

"Last night," he said with great difficulty, turning red. "The walls are thin Gil, I could hear everything."

"Shit Jim, I'm sorry. We didn't even think." Grissom turned to Sara and grimaced.

"Don't worry about it, I'm glad you were enjoying yourselves. I thought I'd better warn you in case anyone else hears. Warrick was asleep, snoring, he didn't hear anything. But Catherine's on the other side, and you know what she's like." He stared at his hands. "I just thought I should ...".

"It's cool, Jim, thanks for letting us know." Grissom shut the door, finding it very hard to keep from laughing.

"Oh, we are so busted. Maybe you'd better gag me next time."

"What? And miss kissing your delectable mouth? I think not. We'll just have to come up with something else," he said, smirking.